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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322600">Four things she knew</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubbioEsistenziale/pseuds/DubbioEsistenziale'>DubbioEsistenziale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death, F/F, Love, One-Shot, Short, Sweet, a 6 am crisis after being awake for too long, angsty, because I can't write anything longer clearly, but nothing graphic, hug, maybe i'll add chapters if i get a magical sprout of insipiration?, slightly mental-health related? But nothing explicit, soft, tender moments of autumn suffering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:02:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>432</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubbioEsistenziale/pseuds/DubbioEsistenziale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One thing she knew, she knew that she did not know anything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Trixie Mattel &amp; Katya Zamolodchikova, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Four things she knew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trixie held her gently, as if she was the most delicate orchid that had just barely survived a storm. Katya felt safe in her arms, taking in the familiar scent of her profume and the warmth of her body. She despised feeling like a fragile cub scared of the fireworks on New Year's eve, but she could not help it. They weren't fireworks, they were Vietnam bombs exploding one after another inside her head - the sound suffocating any hope of survival. Or any hope, full stop. Katya buried her face in Trixie's chest, struggling to breathe through the tears. She was tired, exhausted even. The salt of the tears mixed with mascara was the only grip left on a world that hadn't felt like her own in a long time.<br/>
One thing she knew, Trixie was not an hugger. If she didn't quite despise physical contact, she for sure did not like it. She masterfully circumnavigated handshakes, kisses on the cheeks or any other phisical pleastantry of everyday conversation.<br/>
Two things she knew, Katya existed through the physicality of her body. She breathed through the slight absent-minded touches in a conversation, she was killed by cold stares and brought back to life by the warmth of an hand on her arm. She was sure she existed because those gentle moments throughout the day were a reminder that her feet were still firmly planted on the ground - despite anything that whatever was behind her eyes would have wanted her to believe.<br/>
Three things she knew, she could not take this for granted. And she didn't. She would have happily died in those arms, those arms that were sheltering her from the world and from all of its fireworks. Distance nurtures desire, her grandmother always said, but she had always felt as if that was a lie. And in that moment she knew it was one. Her heart ached stronger than it ever had as she was the closest she had ever been to the only thing that ever mattered. As her soft hands absent-mindedly stroked her blonde locks, baby pink fingernails getting lost in Katya's tangled mess of a head, Trixie's oak brown eyes swam through the windows, gently laying their gaze on each and every autumn leaf tormented by the wind. Oh, how she would have killed to be a leaf, brown and decaying, if that would have meant just a second of that tender gaze gifted to her. She would have happily died then and there.<br/>
Four things she knew, she would have happily died then and there, and she did.</p>
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